


Laugh at How Their Mirror Tells Them Lies

by wyrmy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, Fluff, Genderfluid Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, Sort Of, The Dowling years, non-binary Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrmy/pseuds/wyrmy
Summary: Anthony and Ezra are a young queer couple in need of a lucky break but fortunately Anthony has got a lead on a potential nannying gig.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 27





	Laugh at How Their Mirror Tells Them Lies

**Author's Note:**

> "... she'll look up into that weathered face that loves hers line for line... and laugh at how her mirror tells her lies" -Stan Rogers, "Lies". It's a song about how being loved by your partner allows you to see yourself as your ideal self, instead of how you are normally perceived. Anyway I set myself the challenge of writing gender fluid/ non binary azcrow and this is the result. I hope you enjoy! T rating is for strong language.

Anthony made an undignified grunting sound into their pillow when the second alarm went off, and flailed a skinny arm out to silence it.

Ezra, who always woke earlier than she had to, gave Anthony a gentle kiss on the forehead, and a less than gentle poke in the side.

“Wake up, dear. You’re never going to forgive me if you’re late.”

“Nerwicmewio” said Anthony in what Ezra considered a very unpleasant tone of voice.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to leave you alone to sulk,” Ezra said acidly. “Much better.”

“Why did nature make it so that people had to be awake?” groused Anthony. “If I could be asleep for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.”

“You have to be awake at least some of the time, so that you can love me,” said Ezra. “And you have that job interview today, so don’t make yourself late with your wailing and gnashing of teeth.”

“Motherfucker,” said Anthony, and flung themself out of the bed with great force.

“I’ll make us breakfast.”

“Thanks, angel!”

*  
Ezra was standing at the stove, a shawl around her shoulders and not a hair out of place when Anthony clattered into the kitchen on a pair of Mary Janes.

“What d’you think, angel?” they said with an inelegant twirl. Ezra frowned.

“It looks…um…”

“Feminine?”

“I was going to say severe, but that’s also apt. are you wearing one of my bras?”

“Hope you don’t mind, angel. I’m trying to look like a good Christian cishet girl. What’s the matter, don’t you think I look the part?”

“You do, I’m just concerned for your well-being. I hate the thought of you feeling dysphoric all day, just for the sake of money.”

Anthony shrugged. “Gotta pay for all your champagne and caviar somehow. So do you think it works? Will they be able to tell that my titties are false?”

Ezra gave Anthony such a thorough assessment that the eggs almost burned.

“It’s a very good disguise. You look exactly like Mary Poppins if she was a Goth.”

“Good to know. Thank god I was growing out my hair because I’m not sure they would hire me if I wore a wig.”

“Probably not. Will you have some breakfast with me or are you out of time?”

“Sure, thanks. Pronouns?” they asked, sitting down.

“She/her,” said Ezra, handing them a plate.

“Does that mean you’ll be shaving your face?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“I’ve gotten really attached to this beard. I’ll be sad to see it go,” they sighed. 

“Maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll keep it for the rest of my life, just for you.”

“That’s gay,” said Anthony. 

*

Ezra worked in a bookshop as a cashier, stock taker, and general dogsbody for a mostly uninterested employer, who had long since given up caring about her gender identity. On the bus to work that morning, Ezra offered up a sincere prayer for the good fortune of her employment and for Anthony to have an easy time nannying this horrible American child. If they even got the job. 

If they didn’t, the pair of them wouldn’t make next month’s rent, wasn’t that a sobering thought.

The bookshop, in the heart of Gay Soho, was exactly the sort of place where Ezra, pronoun and pride pins and all, felt most at home. It was a cavernous, disorganized, overstuffed mess, filled with a catalogue of some of the most fascinating prophetic and religious texts that Ezra had ever seen. After nearly a year working there, she had read most of them too.

Her employer, a reclusive man she knew only as Mr. Zirafel, was, as usual, not in when it was time to open up for the day. Ezra unlocked the door, did a little cleaning, and settled herself on the chair nearest the register with her current book and a notebook. Medieval texts were Ezra’s favorite way to wake up in the morning.

*

Mrs. Dowling was thin and haggard as only a new parent can be, with her little baby on her hip and her hair coming out of her bun. The child was screaming.

“Our son is a real handful, I guess. We had to let our last nanny go because she couldn’t handle him. We’ve tried to have the secret service men look after him, but they’re all hopeless. I’m so relieved you’re here today, Miss-”

“Crowley.”

“Miss Crowley. Pleased to meet you.”

“And what’s your child’s name?” Anthony asked, trying to put a patina of English quaintness onto what they said.

“Warlock,” said Mrs. Dowling. “I wasn’t going to name him Thad the second, that’s for sure.”

Anthony smiled.

“May I hold him?” they asked.

“Please! Maybe you can stop him howling for a whole minute!” Mrs. Dowling’s voice was very loud.

Anthony took the baby into their arms and he stopped screaming almost instantly. He reached up with his little hand and tugged on Anthony’s hair. Hard. 

“Okay, you little devil,” hissed Anthony. “We’re going to come to an arrangement.”

*

About 1.30 something, when exactly two customers had been in the shop for the whole day, Ezra started to feel a bit uncomfortable and had to go and change xir bra with the binder xe had brought in xir bag. Xe kept on the long skirt xe was wearing, however. Once installed in xir normal spot near the cash and wearing the correct pronoun pin, Ezra found xir place in the book xe had been reading.

It must have been an hour or so later that xe fished xir phone out of xir pocket to shoot off a string of heart emojis to Anthony.

*

Anthony vaguely registered their phone buzzing in their purse as they crunched triumphantly down the drive. When the secret service men had let them out of the grounds they half-collapsed against a nearby shrubbery and pried off their awful shoes. 

They sent Ezra (“Angel <3 <3” in their contacts) a bunch of heart emojis and a question.

“Surprise me ” said Ezra in reply.

*

When Ezra came home, xe were surprised, nay astounded, to find Anthony wearing only a pair of skinny jeans and surrounded by bags of groceries, dancing badly as they put them away.

“What the hell?” xe said

“Angel!” cried Anthony, running across the room to pick xim up and give xim a little twirl. “I got the job!”

“I’m delighted for you, darling!”

“Oh it was a gorgeous thing to see, angel. She was half-crazy trying to look after this really really high-maintenance baby. I think she’d have hired me not matter what I was like. But I really pulled it off. She doesn’t suspect a thing. And now that you’re here, I think I’ll sit down, because my feet are killing me. Fucking high heels.”

Ezra gave them a long kiss. “I knew you could do it, darling. You’re utterly brilliant, and wily and cunning. My love. Is there a reason you’re half-nude?”

“I felt the need to remind myself that I’ve had top surgery, after all that.”

“Of course. I’ll give you a foot massage too, later, if you like.”

“Aren’t you going to ask how much I’m going to be payed?”

“Well, naturally I…”

“I get payed every two weeks, and the next payday will be two weeks from tomorrow.”

“And the figure?”

Anthony told xim.

Ezra raised xis eyebrows. “I think the phrase you use is whoo-ee,” xe said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you are gender fluid and feel that the way I have written about your identity is offensive or inaccurate, I welcome your criticism.


End file.
